


You don't talk to me, you're too busy living in your head, head

by angrysmolthug



Series: How Mickey and Ian find love [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angry Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Body Worship, Bottom Mickey Milkovich, Boyfriends, Boys In Love, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Dad Mickey Milkovich, Dirty Talk, Fighting, Insecure Mickey Milkovich, Light Dom/sub, Little bit of Fluff, M/M, Making Love, Riding, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sad Mickey (but not because of Ian), Smut, Top Ian Gallagher, aka the holy trinity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:00:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28943334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angrysmolthug/pseuds/angrysmolthug
Summary: “Think you fucking broke me, Firecrotch.”“Sorry,” Ian says.“Nah, I deserved it.” Mickey takes the washcloth from Ian and starts to clean up the blood on Ian’s face.“I just don’t get it,” Ian says after a minute of silence. “I don’t get why you’re so scared of letting me in.”Mickey reaches up and caresses his cheek. “Long story, one I’m not ready to tell.”“That’s okay,” Ian nods.OR: 5 times Ian kind of has to force Mickey to let him in and the one time Mickey lets him in without a fight.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Yevgeny Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: How Mickey and Ian find love [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114400
Comments: 13
Kudos: 172





	You don't talk to me, you're too busy living in your head, head

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to write smut, but I'm not promising it's any good.
> 
> They are angry with each other a lot in this, but it's got a very, very happy ending
> 
> Can be read as a stand alone, but there are two parts before this if you want to know how they got here :) 
> 
> Believe me when I say that this is the first time I wrote almost 8k in a day. And I've got half a year of creative writing classes behind me, so that's saying something. Spent three days on deadlines, so I had to write this. I also don't think I've ever had this much fun writing!
> 
> Title from H.E.R. - Let Me In
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this!

**1: 2 weeks**

“Oh come on, Mick,” Ian says and he grabs Mickey’s hips, pulling him into his lap. Mickey resists, but Ian is much stronger, so he can’t do anything but let himself be pulled in. 

“It’ll be fun.”

Ian’s kissing up Mickey’s neck, soft sweet kisses. He nips at his jaw, then moves on to Mickey’s lips. Mickey slumps against him a little, letting Ian push his tongue into his mouth, but when Ian lets his hands slip under Mickey’s t-shirt, up his sides, the shorter man pulls away.

“Don’t start anything you’re not going to finish, Gallagher,” he groans.

Ian hums. 

“Maybe if I do finish it, you’ll be less grumpy and just say yes,” he says and he grinds up against Mickey’s ass so he can feel how Ian is half hard already. 

Fuck, he’s been non-stop horny since their first date two weeks ago. He regrets suggesting they should take it slow, even though it’s probably still the smartest move. They need to approach this all like adults, not like teenagers thinking with their dicks. Mickey’s got a kid, for fucks sake.

Mickey pulls himself free, standing up from Ian’s lap. Ian can see how he’s hard in his jeans. 

“We fucking talked about this, man,” Mickey says. “Taking it slow, right? Well, meeting your family after two fucking weeks ain’t taking it fucking slow!”

“I’ve met your family!”

“That’s different,” Mickey says and he’s moving towards the kitchen, clearly done with the conversation. Ian isn’t, though, so he follows Mickey.

“No, it’s not, I’ve met your kid and your ex-wife and we played Call of Duty with Iggy last week when he showed up unannounced because he was hiding from his wife again. I’ve had lunch with Mandy three times in the last two weeks because we’ve reconnected thanks to you.”

Mickey sighs and takes a beer out of the fridge. “I’m not fucking doing it, Firecrotch, I’m serious.”

“It’s just dinner with my family, Mick, Fiona brings a new boyfriend almost every week!”

“Can you just fucking shut up about it?!”

Mickey downs his beer as fast as he can, crushing the can in his hand as he reaches for the fridge again. Ian slams his hand against the door of the fridge and Mickey flinches a little.

“Just tell me why, Mickey,”

“I just told you why, now fuck off!”

Mickey is walking away again and Ian’s not having it. He grabs Mickey’s arm, gripping tight enough it could probably leave bruises. 

“What are you so fucking scared of, huh? Since when are you such a fucking pussy?”

Ian can see how Mickey’s eyes get dark, how the frown tugging on his lips is more genuine than his usual put-on bravado. 

“I think you should leave,” Mickey says. 

Ian shakes his head.

“Fucking leave, Gallagher!” Mickey pushes him, but Ian doesn’t budge, just grabs Mickey’s forearms and holds them tight against his chest. 

“I’m not going to leave just because you refuse to talk about shit,” he says, voice so low it’s almost a whisper. “I’m going out to the garden for a smoke, I’ll be there when you’re done being a coward.”

He lets go and heads for the back door, not looking back at Mickey. When he gets outside he sinks down onto one of the lawn chairs, head in his hands.

**2: 1 month**

Ian is sitting at the kitchen table, eating the breakfast Mickey made for him. It’s just scrambled eggs and some bacon, but it tastes heavenly. Last night was the first time Ian stayed over. Nothing happened, they just went to sleep curled around each other after exchanging lazy kisses for a while. They had both been exhausted and with Yev in the next room, it wasn’t all that appealing to have their first time anyway. Personally, Ian wants to be able to be as loud as possible during their first time. 

“What the fuck, Svetlana,” Mickey says to his ex-wife through the phone. “You said you could take him this afternoon!”

Ian can’t really hear what’s being said on the other side, but it doesn’t make Mickey any happier.

“No, we can’t just have someone drop him off, he’s in a full leg cast for fucks sake, he can’t be home alone!”

He is quiet for a moment and sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before he speaks again. “I’ve tried fucking everyone, Svet, someone needs to get him from school and stay with him.”

An idea pops into Ian’s head. Why the fuck not, he thinks. He likes Yev, he would like to bond with the kid a little and he’s going to be watching Franny this afternoon anyway.

“Mick, I can do it.”

Mickey looks up abruptly, removing the phone from his ear. “What?”

“I can go and get Yev this afternoon,” Ian says. “Debbie asked me to get Franny anyways, so I can just take Yev as well. I could either take them both here or to Deb’s place.”

Mickey is just staring blankly at him. 

“No,” he says then, determinedly. “No fucking way.”

Svetlana yells something into the phone and Mickey puts it up to his ear before sighing and putting it on speaker. 

“Orange Boy, you take care of Zhenya?” she asks

“I could, yeah, it’s no bother, it’s my day off.”

“See, problem solved, angry man, Orange Boy will babysit our son.”

“It’s not happening,” Mickey retorts.

Ian tries not to feel hurt. “Why not Mick, I’ve got three younger siblings, I’ve been babysitting Franny and Freddie their whole lives. Don’t you trust me with Yev?”

“Listen to Orange Boy, Mikhailo,” Svetlana’s voice sounds and Mickey hangs up the phone. 

“Seriously, Mickey, don’t you trust me?” 

Mickey only shrugs, aimlessly stirring his fork through his scrambled eggs.

“Fuck man, and here I thought we had something special,” Ian sighs and he gets up, ready to just be petty and walk out the door. Mickey needs to learn to use his fucking words.

“Sit your fucking ass down, Gallagher, don’t be fucking stupid.”

Ian raises his eyebrows at the man in front of him, but Mickey refuses to meet his eye. Ian is ready to argue or say something hurtful, but then Yev is coming down the stairs. He’s learned how to do it efficiently over the past few weeks, so it only takes him about thirty seconds to reach the bottom step

“Morning, Yev,” Ian greets and Yevgeny’s face lights up when he notices Ian. 

“Hey Ian! Good morning dad!”

Time to take matters into his own hands, Ian decides. “Hey, Yev, you want to hang out with me this afternoon? Your dad needs someone to get you from school and I’m watching my niece anyway. She’s got an XBOX at her house, with the newest GTA.”

It’s low, bribing Yev with the promise of a video game, but Ian never claimed to be a good person. And he really does want to spend time with Yev. He thinks Yev and Franny could hit it off, too, Franny’s only about a year and a half younger than Yev.

“Your sister lets her ten-year-old daughter play GTA?” Mickey asks and it’s not the thing he expected Mickey to protest about. 

“It’s Carl’s game, but yeah, she lets Franny pretty free.”

Yev seems genuinely excited about spending the time after school with Ian and he can see that Mickey’s really isn’t happy about the way he handled things, but he obviously doesn’t want to upset his son. Ian just grins at him. When it comes to Mickey, sometimes he just has to force his way in a little. 

**3: 1.5 month**

Mickey has been acting weird. Which is saying something, because to a normal person, Mickey acts weird most of the time. But it’s a different kind of weird. 

Yev’s gone to his mothers’ a day or two early, though Ian doesn’t know why, so he’s alone in the house with Mickey. 

Mickey’s been withdrawn all day since yesterday, his usual snark seems to be gone. Ian doesn’t really like this version of Mickey, this subdued shell of the man he’s been falling for. It reminds him too much of his teen years, of his episodes before his medication. It’s terrifying.

Because Mickey seems downright depressed. It’s hard to get him out of bed, he barely eats. He told Ian he’d taken some days off work because he wasn’t feeling great. 

Ian is really fucking worried, but every time he tries to talk to Mickey about it, he is met with anger and insults, after which Mickey cocoons himself into the sheets again and refuses to look him in the eye.

“I just want to help, Mick,” he says as he puts a hand on the man’s shoulder. 

“Fuck off, Gallagher, I’m fine.”

Ian doesn’t believe him. This must be like the twentieth time that Mickey has blown him off. So, naturally, he goes to the first person he can think of for help. Mandy. They’ve reconnected since she found out Ian and Mickey are dating. She’d been ecstatic, claiming that if she’d known Mickey was gay back in high school, she would have definitely set them up. 

He sents her a short text, just to ask if he can call and a minute or two later, he gets the go-ahead. 

“Hey Ian, what’s up?” Mandy greets him when she picks up.

He decides to just cut to the chase. “Mickey’s acting strange and I’m worried. 

Mandy doesn’t respond immediately.

“I’m serious, Mandy, he’s fucking scaring me and he refuses to talk to me.”

“He won’t tell you,” Mandy sighs. “He probably thinks you’ll pity him. Also, Mickey doesn’t like talking about his feelings.”

“I fucking know Mickey doesn’t like talking about feelings, but I don’t fucking care right now, I just want my fucking boyfriend back. He just stays in bed all day and wallows and he barely eats.”

He realizes his slip-up only a few seconds after he’s said it. They’re not that official yet, they haven’t called each other anything like that yet. It seems like Mandy caught it, though, and that she knows he’s panicking because she laughs quietly.

“I won’t tell him,” she says and he sighs in relief. “I feel like this is really something Mickey should explain himself, Ian, I really do.”

She sounds sad all of a sudden and what is up with the fucking Milkovich siblings? 

“Mands, you realize what it’s like to me, the way he’s acting? I need to know what I’m dealing with, I just need to know what’s going on.”

He and Mandy had still been friends when he experiences his first manic and depressive episode, though they hadn’t been as close as before. He knows she understands what he means.

Mandy sighs. “Tomorrow is the 20th anniversary of our mom’s death.”

Oh. That’s bad, of course, that’s bad, but at least it’s normal. Mickey’s mourning, that’s okay, that’s better than any of the scenario’s Ian had come up with.

“Okay,” he says. “Thanks, Mands. Stay strong, okay?”

He can hear how a shaky breath escapes her. 

“Thanks, Ian. My brother is lucky to have you, you know that? See you later.”

He smiles at his phone after she hangs up

It only takes a few minutes until Mickey suddenly comes storming out of the bedroom, phone in hand. He’s only wearing his boxers and Ian is pretty sure he’s been wearing those exact ones for the past few days. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Ian?” Mickey yells. “You called my fucking sister? What the fuck?”

He shoves the phone in Ian’s face. 

_**Mandy** \- stop scaring your man and get out of bed dickhead_

Ian looks up at Mickey from his spot on the couch. “Mick…”

“Don’t fucking ‘Mick’ me, you crossed a fucking line, Gallagher,” Mickey says, but he looks defeated. 

Ian does the only thing he can think of doing. He gets up from the couch and wraps Mickey in a hug. Mickey struggles, but only for a moment. Then he buries his face in the crook of Ian’s neck and he holds onto Ian’s waist. It feels like Mickey is finally starting to let him in. 

**4: 2 months**

The first time they had sex was a little over the one month mark after their first date. Now, to some people that might not have qualified as taking it slow, but to be fair, they both used to be sluts. So, they only lasted until the sexual tension got too much for them and everyone around them, and Svetlana told them to use their time alone to bang when she came to pick Yevgeny up. Apparently, it was disgusting to look at them eye-fucking each other.

So they happily complied, they fucked for the first time that night and it was the most amazing sex Ian had ever had. Mind-blowing, really. 

He can’t count the times they’ve had sex since then on his fingers anymore and each time is as good if not better than the last. But there’s one thing that is bothering Ian. Mickey refuses to fuck face-to-face. At first, Ian thought that maybe the dark-haired man just liked it better from behind, that it was only a preference. But every time Ian tried to keep Mickey on his back when they got into it, the man rolled over onto his stomach as fast as he could. He wouldn’t meet Ian’s eyes, would just tell him to get the fuck on with it. 

It’s getting frustrating, really, because Ian wants to look Mickey in the eyes as he fucks him, he wants to see Mickey’s face as he falls apart beneath him. He wants to be able to kiss Mickey as he fucks into him. They never really kiss while they’re having sex. Before, yes, but as soon as they hit the bed, they never seem to kiss. Ian is starting to suspect Mickey is avoiding it on purpose. It’s just during sex, though, that Mickey acts like this. He doesn’t seem to care that Ian likes to cuddle up to him after they’ve cleaned up and they’re sated and tired. He doesn’t seem to care when Ian wakes him up with sweet, slow kisses. But as soon as he’s fully awake and they’re getting hot and heavy, he rolls over, ass up in the air. It’s a magnificent ass, it really is, but Ian is kind of done with Mickey’s shit. 

That’s what leads them to this moment. Ian had a very early shift, so he spent the night at his own place for once and hasn’t seen Mickey since last night. Now he’s on his way to Mickey’s with a bag of take-out. It’s Svetlana’s week to have Yev, so the house is empty and Ian’s got plans for tonight.

Mickey looks like a fucking wet dream when he opens the door, dressed only in sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His haired is all mussed up and he looks sleepy. He must have been taking a nap, Ian realizes. Mickey is always tired after work, so a lot of days the first thing he does is pass out on the couch for half an hour. Ian doesn’t mind, he thinks it’s adorable. 

“Hey, short stuff,” Ian says. 

“Who you calling short?” Mickey grumbles, but he lets himself be pulled into a kiss. 

Ian closes the door behind him and pulls Mickey along to the kitchen. He drops the bag of takeout on the kitchen table, then pushes Mickey counter, kissing him again.

“That from the Thai place?”

Ian hums in response. 

“You’re the best, dude, I’m fucking starving.”

Ian grins and he kisses along Mickey’s jaw, then nibbles on his earlobe. “Think you can wait a little longer? ‘Cause I’m hungry for something else.”

He emphasizes his words by grabbing Mickey’s ass, kneading it. Fuck, he loves that ass.

Mickey groans and he presses closer to Ian, his dick already half-hard and rubbing against Ian’s thigh and Ian knows he’s won. He slides his hands down to Mickey’s thighs, lifting him up and letting the shorter man wraps his legs around him. He carries him to the bedroom as fast as he can, bumping into multiple things along the way. He doesn’t care.

Ian drops Mickey onto the bed and the dark-haired man watches him as he undresses, eyes half-lidded, panting quietly. When Ian’s in just his boxers, he pauses, watching how Mickey is palming himself through his sweatpants. Then he pounces, legs on either side of Mickey’s thighs and he grinds his crotch down as he kisses Mickey again. They make out for a few minutes and Ian is already counting that as a win.

But then Mickey gets impatient. 

“Fuck, Ian, I need you in me right fucking now!” the dark-haired man whimpers, fucking whimpers, and Ian nods in agreement without really breaking their kiss. He needs to feel Mickey around him, needs to make Mickey feel good. 

Then Mickey says: “Get off me, I gotta get on my hands and knees,” and the spell is broken. Ian stills.

“I want to see you,” he says. 

“Keep your eyes open while you fuck me, then.”

“No, I want to see your face.”

Mickey stops his wriggling and a frown forms on his face. “The fuck, Gallagher?”

“I want to see your face while I fuck you,” Ian says again.

Mickey pushes him off, then. He looks pissed, no, fucking livid and he gets up and stands at the foot of the bed.

“Fucking hell, Gallagher, where’d all this wimpy shit come from all of a sudden,” he sneers. “You’ve been getting all faggy on me, lately.”

“I don’t get what your fucking problem with it is,” Ian retorts as he gets up as well. “And you’re taking it up the ass, so you’re the faggy one, don’t you think?”

Ian spots the exact moment Mickey sees red and then he tastes blood. Mickey’s punched him. He brings his hand up to his face, feeling his split lip. Mickey is looking at him, chest heaving. Ian doesn’t even think for another moment, hitting Mickey square in the face, missing his nose by only a little. Mickey goes down, but he hooks his feet around Ian’s ankles, so he goes down with him.

Mickey might not be as strong as Ian, but he fights dirty, like a real South Sider and Ian fucking loves it. He doesn’t know how long they roll over the floor, wrestling, kicking, hitting and biting, but it’s fucking amazing. It’s been years since Ian’s fought anyone, if you don’t count that time he punched a guy at the Alibi last year for not leaving Debbie alone. 

Eventually, Mickey gets tired and Ian uses that to his advantage, grabbing Mickey’s wrists the next time he manages to get on top and pinning them to the ground. They’re both panting heavily, blood smeared on their faces and bruises forming on their bodies. 

“Shit, Gallagher, you can fight,” Mickey grins and it’s almost like he’s forgotten that he was mad or what he was mad about. Instead, he seems to have gone right back to horny, grinding up against Ian’s hips. “Why don’t you try and channel that passion to fuck me, huh?”

Ian, however, Ian is still furious. He moves up a bit, sitting on Mickey’s stomach so he doesn’t have anything to rub his dick against. Mickey tries to get his hands free, but Ian isn’t having it. Instead, he holds the shorter man’s wrists with on hand as he stands up, pulling him up and throwing him back on the bed, on his stomach. 

Mickey seems to realize that Ian isn’t playing around, that he’s actually angry, but he doesn’t have much time to react. Ian is on him within seconds, pushing Mickey’s face into the mattress as he pulls up his hips. Mickey moans loudly and Ian hasn't even done anything yet. He makes quick work of getting the lube and slicking up his fingers, pushing two into his lover at once. Mickey gasps, clawing at the sheets while pushing back against Ian’s fingers.

“This how you want it?” Ian taunts as he adds a third finger, but he doesn't move them. “Fucked into the mattress like the bitch you are? Rough and hard and impersonal?” 

"Yeah, fuck, Ian, fuck me!"

It's hadn't taken Ian long to figure out what Mickey liked, what he needed, that first time they fucked. Mickey liked it hard and rough, with Ian's fingers leaving bruises and his face being pushed into the mattress. Sometimes they just fuck, nothing slow and sweet or anything, but just a normal fuck . But other times, they let go and Mickey lets Ian do whatever he wants. Those are the times Mickey comes the hardest, the times when Ian pounds into him at a rapid pace, one hand squeezing around his throat, the other leaving bruises at his hip, Ian telling him what a good fucking slut he is. He loves how vocal Mickey gets when Ian bosses him around and talks dirty to him. When it comes to sex, taking it slow has gone completely out the window after that first time. Ian can't say he minds.

Ian pulls his fingers out, not bothering to stretch Mickey much more. The dark-haired man whines at the loss of something inside him. Ian rolls over, pulling Mickey on top of him with one hand as the other reaches for a condom from the nightstand. 

Mickey struggles, but Ian grabs him by the neck, applying pressure to Mickey’s pulse with his thumb and pointer finger. His hand fits around the other man’s neck so nicely. Mickey stills, eyes rolling back into his head.

“You’re going to fucking ride me,” Ian says as he takes the condom out of the packaging and rolls it on. He grabs the lube and coats his dick in it. “You’re going to ride me and you’re going to look at me while you do it. And you’re going to fucking like it.”

“Did you hear me?” he asks as he lifts Mickey up by the hips. "This is your last chance to stop. " 

It isn't, not really, because no matter how angry Ian is at Mickey right now, he will stop the moment Mickey safe-words out. He knows Mickey likes this, though, giving Ian all the power, the implication that past this point there is no way out. No and don't and stop won't work anymore, nothing will except for that one specific word. 

Mickey nods, clearly desperate. 

"I need to hear it, Mickey," Ian says. 

"Yes, yes, fuck me, please, I need you," Mickey whines, trying to move his hips down, the tip of Ians cock brushing his hole just the slightest bit.

"Good boy," Ian whispers and he lets Mickey go, watching as his mouth falls open in a silent gasp as he sinks down onto Ian’s cock. He’s used to the size by now, but Ian didn’t take as much time to prepare him as he usually does. Now he can really feel it, Ian thinks a little sadistically.

“Move,” he demands, digging his thumbs into Mickey’s hips when he sees the other man hesitate for a bit. 

The dark-haired man lifts himself up, slowly, and Ian is panting, lost in the feeling of how tight Mickey is, how good he looks above him. Slowly but surely, Mickey starts going faster, slamming himself down on Ian’s cock, again and again, gasping and moaning. He’s got his head thrown back, not looking at Ian, but Ian is feeling too good to care about it. 

Mickey reaches for his cock, which is red and leaking, boucing against Ian’s stomach every time Mickey’s ass meets his hips. Ian slaps his hands away and he grabs Mickey’s chin to make his lover look at him.

“You’re going to come from just my cock or you’re not going to come at all, like the cockslut you are,” he says. 

Mickey shakes his head desperately.

“I can’t, I can’t,” Mickey babbles. “I’m so close, but I need, I need…”

“Yes, you can, I know you can.”

Ian fits his hand around Mickey’s neck again, watching as Mickey’s eyes roll back into his head once more as Ian’s fingers cut off his blood flow. He basically lifting Mickey up off his cock by his neck, before letting him sink down again. Mickey's thighs, those amazing thighs, are quivering. 

“Come for me, Mick,” Ian says and then Mickey’s coming, ropes of cum shooting all over Ian's stomach. Ian doesn’t waste any time to flip them over, fucking Mickey rough and fast through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He hooks one of Mickey’s legs over his shoulder, so he can get even deeper. The other man is whining, probably oversensitive, but Ian doesn’t care. He just keeps pounding into Mickey while gripping the dark-haired man’s head with both hands, forcing Mickey to look him in the eyes. 

Mickey doesn’t fight it anymore, just stares up into Ian’s eyes, mouth hanging open in ecstasy. Ian gets lost in Mickey’s beautiful blue eyes and it’s only another few seconds before he thrusts into Mickey one last time, spilling into the condom. 

“I’m gonna pass out now,” Mickey mutters as Ian slumps half on top of him and Ian chuckles. He runs his fingers through Mickey’s hair for a while, softly caressing the sleeping man. Then he gets up to get some washcloths from the bathroom and bottles of water and snacks from the kitchen. 

He cleans up the lube and cum with one washcloth, then starts cleaning the blood off Mickey’s face with the other. Mickey wakes up while he’s doing it and he smiles weakly as Ian helps him sit up and hands him a bottle of water. 

“Think you fucking broke me, Firecrotch.”

“Sorry,” Ian says. 

“Nah, I deserved it.” Mickey takes the washcloth from Ian and starts to clean up the blood on Ian’s face.

“I just don’t get it,” Ian says after a minute of silence. “I don’t get why you’re so scared of letting me in.”

Mickey reaches up and caresses his cheek. “Long story, one I’m not ready to tell.”

“That’s okay,” Ian nods. “You over your stupid no-fucking-face-to-face bullshit now, though?

Mickey smiles. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good,” Ian answers as he goes to lie down, manoeuvring Mickey so he is the little spoon. He’s tired, they both are, so they fall asleep like that, Thai food forgotten in the kitchen. 

**5: 2,5 months**

Lately, Mickey has been leaving the back door open when he’s home, so when Ian gets off from work he can just walk right in. Yevgeny is in the kitchen, stirring something in a pot on the stove. 

“You cooking today, Yev?” Ian asks and he ruffles the boy’s hair. The kid has taken an interest in cooking and while Mickey is an amazing cook, he isn’t always up to it, often tired out from work. Svetlana and Nika have been teaching Yev how to cook and he uses it to help out his dad. 

“Yeah, I made soup,” Yev says proudly. 

“Where's your dad?” 

“Bedroom, I think.” 

Ian makes his way up the stairs, towards their bedroom. It’s Mickey’s bedroom, technically, but lately, he has noticed himself slipping up, calling things ‘theirs’, calling Mickey’s house ‘home’. To be fair, Ian sleeps here more often than not. He barely spends any time in his own apartment anymore. 

The bedroom is somewhat of a chaos. There is an empty laundry basket on the bed, next to a pile of laundry. All the drawers of the dresser are pulled open, as well as the doors of the wardrobe. Mickey is sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. When he spots Ian, he slowly rises up.

“You,” he says, somewhat threateningly and he points at Ian. “You fucking dick!”

Ian steps back, hands up in front of him. “What’s wrong, Mick?”

“You fucking tricked me,” Mickey says. “With your fucking ‘taking it slow’.”

“What are you talking about?”

Mickey helplessly gestures to the pile of laundry and the dresser and the wardrobe. Ian still doesn’t get it. At this point, Mickey is almost hyperventilating. Ian wants to reach out and hold him.

“Half of this shit is yours, Gallagher.” Mickey picks up a handful of the laundry. 

He moves on to wardrobe. “There’s two of your fucking uniforms in here.”

Ian feels like he probably shouldn’t tell Mickey that he only has four and that the other one - besides the one he is wearing - is the spare in his locker at work. 

“There’s a pair of your shoes by the door and that old book Yev was reading this afternoon had your name in it and your stupid flowery body wash is in my shower.”

He inhales sharply. “I can’t fucking deal with this, man.” 

Ian’s heart breaks a little, right then and there. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at Mickey. Mickey sinks back down onto the bed. 

“You want me to leave?” Ian says and it hurts to say it. He doesn’t want to go. He wants to sit down next to Mickey and tell him it’s okay to be a little overwhelmed. That he didn’t do this on purpose, worm his way into Mickey’s life. It just happened. 

Mickey shrugs. Ian backs out of the room, leaving Mickey behind. He walks down the stairs.

“Dad flip his shit?” Yevgeny asks as soon as he spots Ian and the defeated look on his face. 

“How’d you know?”

“Went upstairs earlier, saw him freaking out.” Yev is putting some of the soup in a bowl, holding it out to Ian along with a spoon. Ian takes it.

“It’ll be fine, Ian,” Yev tells him. “I can talk to him if you want?”

Ian shrugs. “You think that’s a good idea?”

“I mean, someone’s gotta get it through his thick skull that he’s being overly dramatic.” 

Ian wonders when this fucking twelve-year-old got so mature and wise.

“Also, if you try you will both probably end up all bruised up again.”

They hadn’t told Yev that they got those bruises because they fought with each other, but it seems that the boy is smart enough to figure it out for himself.

Ian follows Yev, but he stays at the foot upstairs while Yev bounds up to the first floor. He winks at Ian before moving towards his father’s bedroom.

The talking starts quietly, but then their voices raise and then they’re outright yelling, even though Ian can’t really make out what they’re saying. He’s pretty sure he can hear Yevgeny sprinkle in some Russian, even though he knows Mickey won’t understand that. 

When they quiet down, Ian moves back towards the kitchen. Just on time, because he can hear two pairs of footsteps coming down the stairs. Yev nods shortly at Ian, before fleeing out the back door. 

Mickey looks sheepish, but his snark isn’t gone. “You too scared to talk some sense into me yourself?”

“Yev didn’t think it was a good idea.”

Mickey snorts and Ian can’t help but laugh as well. They both sober up quickly.

“I’m sorry I overreacted,” Mickey says. 

Ian shrugs. “To be fair, I have kind of moved in here without asking, even if I didn’t really notice it myself.”

“I like having you here.”

That admission coming from Mickey is the best thing Ian could have heard today. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, man, I’ve never really had a boyfriend before, but I’m starting to like it.”

Scratch that, that’s the best things he could have heard today. Mickey just called him his boyfriend. 

“So I get to stay, then, boyfriend?” he asks as he moves forwards, towards Mickey. He puts his hands on Mickey’s hips.

“Yeah,” Mickey says, quietly. “Maybe tone it down a bit with the wardrobe take-over, thougj. And you’re not getting any fucking keys yet.”

Ian laughs a really, really happy laugh. “Fine by me.”

Then he leans down and kisses Mickey. 

**+1: 3 months**

Mickey is standing in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom. He’s dressed in just his boxer briefs. They’re a bit old and if it weren’t for the elastic being all stretched out, they would probably be uncomfortably tight. 

He pokes at his belly, then squeezes his thighs. He’s been kind of letting himself go, lately, he thinks. Nothing too bad, but Yev’s cooking is just so good and he and Ian eat a lot of take-out. He doesn’t have the time or energy to work out as much as Ian does. He has a nine to five job and he is a part-time father and he’s got all this shit to take care of.

He’s getting old, too, today is his thirtieth birthday. Three fucking decades has he been on this earth. He sighs. Old and fat. Because of the tight boxer briefs, he’s got a bit of a muffin top and the fabric squeezes around his thighs. He turns halfway, looking at his ass. He’s always had a fat ass, nothing he could ever do about that. Even in prison, when he worked out all the time, he didn’t manage to get rid of his bubble butt. He thinks it might have gotten bigger, though.

Ian and Yev have been rummaging around in the kitchen, but then Mickey hears footsteps coming up the stairs. After one last look at the mirror, he gets back into bed, cocooning himself in the sheets. 

Yev and Ian enter, singing him fucking Happy Birthday and he slowly sits up, acting like he just woke up. Ian is wearing a tray with food and Yevgeny has a wrapped present in his hand and Mickey feels more fucking emotional than he has in a long time. 

“Happy birthday, Dad!” Yev says as he hugs Mickey tightly and Mickey just holds on to his son. 

Ian carefully gets onto the bed from the other side, putting the tray down between them.

“Hey, birthday boy,” he whispers, smiling sweetly as he leans over to kiss Mickey. 

It’s only a peck, but in his eyes, Mickey can see the promise of more.

“Hey yourself.”

They just sit there, grinning at each other until Yev interrupts them. 

“Here, dad,” he says as he pushes the present into Mickey’s hands. 

“Thanks, bud.” He starts picking at the wrapping paper and fuck, he’s that lame now? Changing his mind, he just tears the paper off and opens the box it reveals. Inside the box is a pint glass with the words ‘FUCK U-UP’ printed on it and what seems to be a handmade birthday card. Mickey usually drinks his beers straight from the bottle or the can, but that will be changing from now on.

He pulls his son in, giving him a kiss on the head. “I love it, Yev, thank you.”

Yev grins happily. 

Mickey looks at Ian expectantly, who smiles that sheepish smile Mickey has grown to love. 

“I ordered it online, but it hasn’t come in yet,” Ian says. “Fucking UPS, man.”

“That’s okay,” Mickey says and he smiles at his boyfriend. It still feels a little surreal. His boyfriend, Ian is his boyfriend.

They eat their breakfast quietly, but they’ve all got giddy smiles on their faces. 

“You still spending the day with Franny and Liam?" Ian asks Yevgeny and oh, Mickey completely forgot about that. 

“If that’s okay?”

Mickey nods. “Yeah, kiddo, as long as you’re home before dinner.”

When Yev leaves the room to get dressed, Ian leans into Mickey. His fingers trail up the back of Mickey’s neck and he lets his eyes fall shut as Ian’s lips graze his ear.

“I can at least give you one present when he’s gone,” Ian whispers and Mickey feels a shiver go up his spine.

“Fuck, yes, please!” he says, making grabby hands at his boyfriend, who is moving away from him. 

“A little patience, Mick,” Ian grins and he gets out of the bed, stretching out before grabbing the tray off the mattress. Mick can’t help but stare at the part of Ian’s stomach that is revealed when he stretches. Ian looks so fucking good, all the fucking time. He’s tall and strong, with biceps as big as Mickey’s head and a fucking sixpack and a defined V and Mickey suddenly feels self-conscious again, so he pulls the sheet up a little higher. 

He waits in bed while Ian brings the tray downstairs. Yev comes in to say goodbye before rushing out the house, claiming he is late already.

As soon as Ian walks into their bedroom again, he is stripping off his shirt, hunger in his eyes and Mickey can feel his cock stir. 

“Come here,” he breathes, beckoning his boyfriend closer and Ian easily complies, crawling towards him from the foot of the bed, leaning down to kiss him. 

Mickey gets lost in Ian’s lips on his, their tongues wrestling. Ian’s hands are on him and he fucking loves it. 

“How you wanna do this, birthday boy,” Ian asks. 

“You gonna be mad if I want it from behind?” Mickey teases. They’ve gotten quite varied with their positions and they fuck about as much face-to-face as they do with Mickey on his hands and knees, but he just can’t resist bringing it up occasionally.

He loves it now, the way Ian kisses him as he fucks into him or how he can stare down at his boyfriend losing it as he bounces up and down his cock. But right now, he wants to feel completely owned. He wants to feel Ian blanketing him, to be all wrapped up in him with his face in a pillow and Ian pounding him into the mattress.

Ian sticks his tongue out at him for the comment he made, but he doesn’t waste any time flipping Mickey over. It doesn’t take long before Mickey feels lubed up fingers prodding at his asshole as Ian litters kisses all over his back. He’s still a little loose from last night and the prep goes easy. Within minutes, Mickey is whining for Ian to just get the fuck on him. 

When he finally does it is amazing, just like always. Ian pounds into him, looking for the right angle. When Mickey gasps and loses his balance, face-planting into the mattress, Ian presses a hand between his shoulder blades, hammering away at his prostate. It’s intense and Mickey feels himself getting close. It takes only a few tugs at his cock from Ian’s giant hand before he’s spilling all over the sheets.

Ian keeps fucking him through it and it takes only about half a minute before Ian stills, biting down on Mickey’s shoulder as he spills into the condom with a groan. 

He rolls of Mickey, discarding of the condom and then pulling Mickey out of the wet patch and half on top of him. Mickey complies, resting his head on Ian's chest and tangling their legs together. 

“Happy birthday to me,” Mickey chuckles and Ian laughs, arms tightening around his lover. He could stay here like this forever, Mickey thinks. 

They lay there basking in the afterglow for about half an hour. Then Mickey can feel Ian starting to harden again against his thigh. He moves his leg a bit, rubbing it along the redhead’s erection. 

“You think you can go another round, old man?” Ian says.

Mickey pulls away abruptly, too abruptly, he realizes. 

“What’s wrong?” Ian asks as Mickey sits up and wraps his arms around his knees. “It was just a joke, Mick.”

But Mickey can’t talk, because he can feel a lump in his throat and tears pricking behind his eyes. Fuck, he was right. Even Ian thinks he’s getting old. Probably thinks he’s fat, too. Maybe Ian will leave him soon, for someone younger and more handsome. 

“Hey,” Ian whispers, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“Fuck off, Firecrotch,” Mickey spits, rubbing one of his eyes with the back of his hands.

“Is it because I called you an old man? I was kidding, you’re literally only two years older than me”

Ian hits the nail right on the head, of course. 

“Kinda true, though, right?” Mickey sniffles. “I’m getting old and fat, have you seen me lately? And you’re young and hot, you’ve got a fucking six-pack man, you could do so much better than me.”

Ian stills and Mickey waits for him to pull away, to realize that Mickey is right and to decide to leave. He doesn’t. Instead, his hand tilts Mickey’s head up, so he can look him in the eye.

“Where’s this coming from, Mick?”

Mickey shrugs. “It’s just, I’m thirty now and I was looking in the mirror this morning and I’ve got a belly and my thighs have gotten bigger, my underwear doesn’t fucking fit properly anymore, man. I’m getting fat and ugly and I would get it if you’d start to find me less attractive.”

Ian is looking at him with disbelief. “What about the amazing sex we had half an hour ago makes you think I find you any less attractive. 

“I don’t know.”

“I think you’re fucking beautiful, Mickey,” Ian says and then he’s kissing him and Mickey can’t do anything but give in because this is fucking Ian. Ian is guiding him back until his head is on the pillow and Ian is between his thighs. 

He kisses down his jaw and neck, along his sternum.

“I fucking love your body, Mick,” he says.

“I love how you bruise so easily.”

He sucks a hickey into Mickey’s pec, an inch or two above his nipple. 

“I love how you’re so responsive when I do this…”

He nips at Mickey’s nipple, then laps at it with his tongue to soothe the sting. Mickey arches his back off the bed at the feeling. 

“I love your waist, it’s just right for me to grip,” he says as his hands run along Mickey’s sides. 

“I love your belly and how soft it is, how comfortable it is to lay my head on.”

He softly bites at Mickey’s stomach and Mickey’s fingers slide into red locks, gripping them loosely. 

“I love your thighs, I love I can grip them when I fuck into you, how they shake when you ride me.”

He sucks a hickey into each of Mickey’s thighs and Mickey has his mouth open in a silent gasp, his cock is hard and red and leaking against his stomach. 

“I love your calves,” Ian says as he runs his hands over Mickey's calves. “I love how strong and muscular they are.” 

He moves up again, his hands sliding up Mickey’s thighs to his ass, lifting him off the bed a little. He feels how Ian shoves pillow under the small of his back. 

“I love your fucking ass, Mick. It’s like the greatest ass ever, it looks so good and it feels so good when I fuck you.” 

Ian pushes Mickey’s legs up, sucking another hickey into his thigh. Mickey feels like he’s floating, overwhelmed but so, so good. 

Ian kisses one of his cheeks, softly, then bites the other and then he licks a stripe over Mickey’s loose hole and oh fuck, that is amazing. They’ve never done this before, Mickey wouldn’t even have let him entertain the thought, but right now he can’t say no to Ian, can’t say anything, actually. He’s just lying there, panting, one hand still in Ian’s hair while he has his other forearm covering his eyes. 

Ian eats him out with the same enthusiasm he does everything related to sex. He licks long broad stripes over Mickey’s hole, the prods his tongue inside, fucking him with it and Mickey is pretty sure he’s ascended to heaven.

“Fucking love how you taste, Mick, so good!” Ian moans against his ass and it’s obscene, the sounds he makes, the slick noise of saliva as he fucks his tongue in and out of Mickey’s hole.

Mickey’s grip on the redhead's hair tightens and he pulls at Ian, wanting to get him up. 

“Fuck, Ian, I need you, I need you in me.”

Ian nods frantically, grabbing the lube again and then reaching into the nightstand to get a condom, only to come back empty-handed. 

“Fuck.” 

Mickey knows there should be a new pack somewhere in the bathroom, but he’s too far gone to care, he needs Ian, he needs him now. 

He pulls Ian down, kissing him deeply, before saying: “I’m clean, I got tested and I haven’t been with anyone else in years.”

Ian’s eyes widen as he seems to process what Mickey is saying and then he fucking moans, burying his face in Mickey’s neck as he ruts against his thigh.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m clean too,” he says and Mickey wraps his legs around Ian’s waist, urging him on. Ian slicks up his cock with lube and then Mickey can feel the tip of Ian’s naked cock pressing against his hole and his eyes roll back into his head.

Ian pushes in slow, so slow and it feels like everything is too much, like he’s going to fucking explode. He doesn’t and he can hear himself moan and whimper as Ian’s huge fucking cock presses into him, inch by inch. 

Ian’s head is still in the crook of Mickey’s neck, he’s mouthing at the skin there. His hands are gripping Mickey’s thighs tightly, fingers pressing hard enough they could leave bruises. It grounds Mickey. He fucking loves it. 

When Ian’s hips are fully seated against his ass, the redhead stills. “Fuck, Mick, you feel so good, so tight even though I already fucked you.”

He pulls out slowly, presses back in just as slow.

“You’re so perfect, Mickey, so perfect to me.”

He lifts his head up, one hand coming up to brush a few strands of raven hair off Mickey’s forehead as he looks Mickey in the eye. He picks up the pace a little, but not by much, still fucking him so slow, so sweet. 

No, Mickey realizes, Ian isn’t fucking him, he’s making love to him. It feels like his insides are burning up and he scratches at Ian’s back trying to find some purchase, something to hold onto so he won’t float away.

The slick slide of Ian’s cock inside of him is too good, too much. He feels full, so full and Ian is still whispering sweet nothings into his ear, telling him how much he loves his body, how perfect he is, how he feels so good. Mickey doesn’t realize he is crying from how intense it is until he feels Ian's tongue lap up the tears. 

Mickey’s cock is trapped between their stomach’s and the friction is delicious, just right. It only takes a few more slow slides of Ian’s cock inside of him and Mickey is coming, pulling Ian into a bruising kiss as he arches of the bed, clenching around Ian’s cock. 

Ian follows him over the edge only a few seconds later and Mickey can feel the warmth spreading inside of him as Ian comes and he whimpers and gasps at the feeling. 

Ian stays still on top of him, head turned on its side on the pillow, lips pressed softly against Mickey’s cheek. Mickey wishes they could stay like this forever, with Ian wrapped around him, still inside him. 

Eventually, Ian’s soft cock slips out and his boyfriend moves, his hands raking down his body again. If Mickey hadn’t just come for the second time, he would be getting hard again from what happens next.

Because Ian reaches out and rubs at Mickey’s overly sensitive hole and Mickey can feel how he pushing some of the come that had leaked out back inside. 

“So hot, Mick, my come dripping out of your ass,” Ian says and he leans forward to lick away the come smeared around his hole. Mickey grips his hair, pushing him away because he is too sensitive. 

“Should do this more often, get you a plug so we can keep it all inside.”

Mickey moans just at the thought and he’s pulling on Ian’s hair again, pulling him up, up, up, until he can hold Ian in his arms and kiss him sweet and slow. When he pulls back and gazes into Ian’s green, green eyes, he knows. He just fucking knows and he has to say it, has to say it now. 

“I love you,” he whispers and the way fucking joy spreads over Ian’s face is amazing and breath-taking. Ian kisses him again, deeply, tongue delving into Mickey’s mouth. 

When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against Mickey’s. 

“I love you, too,” he says and Mickey almost starts crying again. 

The fall asleep like that, sharing sleepy kisses and ‘I love you’s’, Ian still half on top of Mickey and slightly crushing him, but Mickey doesn’t care. He’s fucking happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Come find me on Tumblr as angry-smol-thug! 
> 
> Feel free to let me know what else you would like to read in this series! I've already got some adorable Yev-centric coming up, though!


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